Borders

The borders have inscribed this date, oh, what irony,
In every glance, it exists, yet appears unseen so finely.
Friends have lost their friendship’s grace,
What have we gained by embracing enmity’s face?
We shared fields with borders in such a way,
Though unseen, the same flowers bloom today.
Enmity has turned friends into foes,
Once again, the streets of the borders blaze.
In the ink of friends’ blood, a tale is penned,
Such is the story of enmity, my friend.